I read and reread some of your actions, and I find shocking the way -step stepper feel them so clos

The eggs from the supermarket were pale when sbattevi in the pot to make an omelette. The eggs from the supermarket, with their shell clean, brushed, bleached, six to six in their plastic packaging. Eggs aunt were in a paper bag and were stained stewi with earth, straw, feathers, chicken shit, but they had the red yolk, eat them raw and sweetened after the flu, straight out of the ass of the hen cup, I would think now, but that's not the point. The point is the shells and what's inside. When I met you I was an egg released from the hot ass of a chicken. When I met you you were a person from paper bag, the kind they use in the movies stewi to shove bottles, you were an egg released from the hot ass of a chicken in a paper bag and inside the shell, for those who could overcome the disgust idea of what was on that shell, all the shit that you carried back inside the shell, for those who could not think of the porosity of the shell, to shit like that could have entrarti inside, there was a red yolk and nutritious, there was something fresh and good, you were there. Now you're an egg from the supermarket, like all the other eggs in plastic packaging. You are now the egg in the plastic packaging from the supermarket, what, when you get home with your spending and start to withdraw - first frozen, then the butter, sliced meats, fruits and vegetables, eggs - has cracked the trip, there is always an egg with the shell cracked, even if you're careful, supports the package on top of the shopping bag that ports without moving his arm to avoid the risk of bumping into the wall or into the door. Now you are a supermarket with egg shell washed and bleached, there is no danger of infection, to hold you in my hands, but inside, inside you have no taste, you do not have color, there is a rush of blood when you break the shell on edge of the plate and widen the two halves, and if you had fertilized egg with the shell washed and bleached, it would come out a chick from battery, a cockerel to antibiotics with the meat dry and tough, tasteless, a distant memory of what you were, you were going to become. You're an egg that has chosen the wrong feet, ass wrong, an empty shell, clean and brushed, an egg to eat it raw is not cool enough, a broken shell, who knows what would become, if I had my choice, ass .
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Associated items This article was published in Histoire d'une stewi jeune fille, Tuscatti / ioscrivo January stewi 22, 2011 by Madame psychosis. Navigation And the ifs we lost for nothing [*] And did they get you to trade [...] cold comfort for change? [*]
I think it's normal, unfortunately, stewi take a step forward and three back, or jump in as hopscotch and stand with one foot in one phase and the other in another. stewi Who knows when it ends, as if.
I read and reread some of your actions, and I find shocking the way -step stepper feel them so close to my feelings. I felt really hit ... why not require a lengthy analysis in follow you again :) Greetings.
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